


The Happiest Day

by TheAutumnLeaves



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin meets the twins, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27106801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAutumnLeaves/pseuds/TheAutumnLeaves
Summary: Anakin returns to Coruscant and the Battle thereof a couple of weeks later, and thus saves the galaxy a lot of trouble.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Leia Organa, Padmé Amidala & Luke Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 149





	The Happiest Day

“Padmé?” Anakin laughed uncertainly, “You’re being weird.”

His wife laughed, tightening her hands over his eyes, and awkwardly nudging him forwards. “It’s a surprise! Be patient!”

“You sound like Obi-Wan,” Anakin complained lightly, reaching back to tickle her unprotected sides.

She yelped, and he got an elbow jammed in his shoulder for his troubles, but her laughter after so long away was more than worth it.

The Clone Wars seemed endless, and the Separatists were getting bolder. Their kidnapping of the chancellor had at least given him an excuse to get home to Coruscant, but it was the only favour they’d done him. He was exhausted, and looking forwards to a time when he could stay put for a while.

Padmé accidentally guided him into an end table, and he laughed again, doubling over.

“What if I promise to close my eyes?”

For another moment, she kept her hands on his face, before she declared, “Yes, I think that would work.”

Still, her hands remained, even as Anakin squeezed his eyes shut.

“Are they closed?” she demanded.

“Yes! What’s this big secret, that you couldn’t bring it to the door, and had to walk me into stuff?”

He felt her inhale, about to answer truthfully, before she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she took his arm, leading him onwards, and he began to try to parse what room they were headed to. They’d gone through the living room, and past their bedroom. He was fairly certain they’d passed the ‘fresher, and possibly the kitchen… But he had never really explored beyond that. Why would he, when the only reason he visited always waited for him at the landing pad?

“Left!” she said brightly, nudging him, and he heard a door open. She pushed him inside, and he stood, consciously choosing not to reach out with the Force, and ruin whatever surprise she had.

“Padmé, seriously, what’re you doing?” he asked.

“Shh!” She hissed, and he caught his breath. “You can open your eyes, now.”

Uncertain now, he gripped her hand, and cautiously opened his eyes.

They were in a nursery. Tall windows reached from floor to ceiling, only light, gauzy curtains softening the light that fell on the cribs. It reminded him of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, there was even the sound of water, though he couldn’t immediately see the source, and suspected a recording.

“Go on,” she whispered, and Anakin felt an excited tremble in her presence.

He stepped forwards, looking down into one of the cribs.

Curled safely in a soft blue blanket lay an infant, fast asleep, and he swallowed with difficulty. It was… tiny. And helpless, and in his wife’s home. His heart pounding, he turned to the second crib, where another youngling lay. This one had rested its face against a soft toy, and was sheltered in a light green blanket, only the slightest movement of breathing betraying that it was alive.

“What…” he whispered, turning back to Padmé. Children. Why children, why _now?_ Was this some sort of… were they liberated slaves, that she’d brought back? That… halfway made sense, but they were so _young_ , they needed their _mothers._

She beamed at him, joining him and reaching down to delicately touch the first of the children.

“They’re yours.”

“ _What?”_

At first, his thoughts remained with the idea that they were slaves, that Padmé had somehow well and truly missed the mark on a gift, and given him helpless sentients.

“Anakin,” she said, just as the child gave a dainty yawn and leaned into her hand. “They’re our children.”

Oh. _Oh._

For another moment, he stared, trying to comprehend what she was saying. That these… perfect, tiny people were _theirs_ , that he had had a part in creating _life_.

“Can I… hold one?”

Padmé reached down, carefully gathering the child up, and cradling it to her chest for a moment, before guiding his hands to support the baby’s head.

The moment he touched it, he felt the Force swell around them in a cosmic crescendo, singing connection and pure, innocent power. For an instant, he was blinded by it, unaware of anything but the thundering of its blood, the pounding of its heartbeat.

“That’s Luke,” he heard Padmé say, as if her words were a lifeline, thrown from a great distance.

With effort, he drew himself back to the nursery, looking down at his son.

“He’s… incredible,” he murmured, cautiously brushing his flesh hand across the infant’s peach fuzz.

Padmé reached down for the other child, which let out a squall at being removed from its soft toy and waved tiny fists furiously until Padmé cradled it close, cooing and bouncing it gently.

“And that one?” Anakin asked, reaching out to delicately caress the other infant, again utterly consumed by the child’s presence until Padmé answered.

“Leia,” she said, cradling the little girl, before stepping over to a soft-looking chair, and sinking down, resting the baby against her chest.

Entranced by his wife, by the younglings, Anakin followed her, disregarding a second chair in favour of perching on the arm of Padmé’s.

“How old are they?”

The child in his arms – Luke, he reminded himself – awoke as well at the movement, and his sister’s complaints.

“Nine days, now,” Padmé answered, gently pushing him off the chair so she could make herself comfortable.

“I can’t believe I missed them,” he sighed, delicately touching Luke’s cheek as the little boy began to whimper softly. “Force, I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”

She nodded, her gaze locked on the child in her arms. “I didn’t mean to surprise you with… with entire children. At first, it was just the _possibility_ of children, and then it was a visible baby bump, and… I hoped that you would get home in time, and before I knew it… babies.”

Anakin smiled, sinking into the other chair, cradling Luke close.

“I’m not gonna complain about it, though. They’re incredible.”

She laughed, and threw her head back. In her arms, the tiny girl calmed at the sound of her voice, and Anakin couldn’t help smiling at the pair of them.

“I’m glad to hear it, I suspect getting a divorce would have been quite complicated!”

Anakin chuckled, still too overwhelmed to fully appreciate the joke. Snuggled against his chest, his son burbled softly, tiny hands waving vaguely, before he fell still again, arms half-extended.

“What… what are we going to do?” Anakin asked suddenly.

He had never been so glad in his _life_ to see the woman he loved. And he had never been so proud as he was when looking upon his children. But the war wasn’t over, the galaxy that had made him fear for Ahsoka now contained a pair of truly helpless babies, which were his most precious responsibility.

Padmé sobered, although the child she held had begun cooing softly, which was something of a detriment to the importance of the moment.

“That is your choice, Anakin. I’ve made the choice to carry them to term, but if you wish to remain a Jedi, I will claim to have used a sperm bank.”

Instinctively, Anakin clutched his son tighter, the infants’ presences surrounding him with soft, innocent comfort. He couldn’t let them go, like he couldn’t let Padmé go, like he _wouldn’t._

But he was their father. It was his duty. To protect their delicate little lives, and the ideal way to do that was as a Jedi.

Carefully, he touched his son’s cheek. Yes, leaving his family behind him for now was what would protect them best. But as if he had heard his father’s thoughts, the little boy leaned into his hand, smacking his lips quietly.

“I can’t leave you,” he murmured, unsure if he was addressing the little boy, or his mother. “But I will find a way to protect you, I swear.”

Padmé sighed, and Anakin looked up at her, worried.

“Anakin. I had these children fully willing to protect them myself. Let the Jedi do their job, and we can do ours, as any other parent. You can’t save the entire galaxy.”

“It’s what the Jedi expect of me,” he protested, again simply running his fingertips along his son’s cheek. “It’s what I was freed to do, and I can’t _bear_ the thought of Luke and Leia being hurt by this galaxy.”

Padmé moved, and Anakin found her taking his hand, drawing him to his feet. Subdued, still mulling over the idea of leaving his children behind, he followed in silence.

His wife led him to the balcony, where she sank into one of the sofas, and gestured to him to join her.

Cautiously, he did so, wincing slightly as the daughter in Padmé’s arms brushed against him, and the galaxy was briefly blotted out again.

“When has being a Jedi ever made you happy?” Padmé asked softly, leaning her head against his shoulder, curls falling softly over him.

He tensed, biting back a defensive response. Being a Jedi made him happy! Helping others had always made him happy, as his mother said it made all beings happy. He loved travelling the galaxy, flying his starfighter and liberating planets from the grasp of the Separatists.

But that wasn’t what Obi-Wan would have said being a Jedi was. According to Obi-Wan, and Yoda, and the rest of the Council, being a Jedi was being a peacekeeper. A negotiator. For lack of a better term, a monk.

And, according to all of them, Anakin was not very good at it.

“I think it used to,” he sighed, burying his face in his wife’s hair. He’d used to enjoy it. The constant lessons and lectures and meditation, when it was starkly contrasted against slavery, and when he had thought he might one day return for his mother.

But when he thought about it, he realized that he hadn’t even been enjoying the travel of late. Once an adventure, it had become lonely without Ahsoka. He found himself on the same planets repeatedly, hastily slapping a new band-aid fix on a gaping wound, before running off to patch another problem he had hypothetically already solved. Even Obi-Wan was often distant, and was insisting that Anakin should be more independent, and perhaps even take a new apprentice.

“I guess it has been a while.”

“We could go back to Naboo,” Padmé offered, nestling their daughter against her twin in Anakin’s arms. “My parents haven’t met the twins, yet. I’m going to take some time off from the Senate. We could finally have the time you’re always complaining about lacking.”

That was extremely tempting.

It _did_ frustrate him, how little time he got to spend with the love of his life. And… he didn’t want to be separated from his new children. He remembered being small, wondering where his father was. And he had _had_ no father. If his mother had told him that he had, but that he was waging a war to try to protect him… Anakin would still have felt cheated out of one of his parents.

“That sounds wonderful,” he sighed at last.


End file.
